Meant to Be ONE SHOT
by FullMoonDreams
Summary: Ten years after defeating Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore has a new life and new job as Headmaster of Hogwarts. But a letter from Nurmengard Prison reminds him of the past and summons him to see Gellert Grindelwald once more. ADGG. Please R&R.


_Disclaimer: The characters and places in this story are all the property of JK Rowling. I have merely borrowed them and given them my own little twist._

-----Meant to Be-----

Albus Dumbledore looked around the familiar office that, despite its familiarity still had a strange unknown atmosphere on this particular summer morning.

He'd been in the room on many occasions over the years, first as a student, then as a professor. Now as he entered the room as Headmaster, he still half expected Armando Dippet to call out a greeting to him and wave him to a seat.

Of course, the same could still happen, Headmaster Dippet now having taken up residence on the wall alongside other portraits of other former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts.

He'd been appointed Headmaster barely more than a week ago, and so far he'd only entered the office on one occasion. He'd moved none of his personal possessions into the room save for Fawkes's perch.

The phoenix had made the move from one office to another with barely a ruffle of his feathers. Albus wished that the transition had been so easy for him.

Albus walked over to Fawkes and magically replenished the water bowl.

"How are you enjoying your new home?" he asked affectionately.

Fawkes stretched his wings and looked around the room. The bird gave every indication that he was considering the question as he gazed appraisingly round the office. Finally he gave a single cry, nodded his head in approval and dove into his food bowl.

Albus smiled before he made his way to the desk to look through the pile of correspondence that was awaiting his attention.

As he worked his way through the letters he began to relax in his new surroundings. He resolved to gather his personal effects and bring them to his new office later that very day.

He was nearly two thirds of the way through the mail when he reached it.

The letter looked much the same as the rest of them, except for the seal.

The envelope dropped from his hand like a hot potato and Albus stared at it mutely for several minutes. Finally he gathered the courage to turn over the envelope, but the handwriting was completely unfamiliar.

Albus closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath to fortify himself. It was the last thing he'd been expecting to see amidst the letters from the Ministry of Magic, parents of students, and editors of various publications wishing for interviews with the new Headmaster.

All the Gryffindor courage deserted him and his hand began to shake slightly. Albus Dumbledore had rarely considered himself to be a coward, but as he looked at the envelope he felt the beginnings of fear settling in his gut. He didn't want to go back.

* * *

Albus hadn't imagined when he'd finished his studies at Hogwarts barely days before that he'd be back at Godric's Hollow so soon. Just days ago he'd been engaged in last minute preparations for the Grand Tour he was to have undertaken with Elphias Doge. Then the letter had arrived, calling him home and, although he didn't know it yet, changing his life forever. Now, instead of preparing for adventures and travel he was making arrangements for his mother Kendra's funeral.

"You'll need to write to Hogwarts and tell them I won't be returning," Aberforth said as he came into the kitchen. "You're head of the house now."

"But you will be returning to Hogwarts," Albus said in surprise. "Why wouldn't you? Your fees are already paid."

"But Ariana…" Aberforth's voice trailed off as he gestured towards the door. "She needs me."

"I'll care for her while you finish your education," Albus said. "Did you think I'd be so selfish as to demand you stay here with her whilst I travel the world?"

Aberforth stood in silence, making it clear that he'd believed exactly that.

"Ariana will be well cared for," Albus continued. "You have nothing to worry about."

"You don't know how to handle her," Aberforth insisted. "How will you calm her when she's distressed? How will you persuade her to eat when she refuses? How will you…"

"The first couple of months will be the hardest," Albus admitted. "But you'll be here to help, and by the time you return to school everything will be running smoothly."

"You don't know that," Aberforth argued. "You've barely shown an interest in her all these years. You can't change that in just a few weeks."

"Just because I'm not her favourite, doesn't mean I haven't shown an interest in her," Albus snapped.

"Boys, boys," a familiar voice chided and Bathilda Bagshot bustled into the room. "Now is not the time to be fighting. Think of your poor mother and what she'd think if she could hear you now."

Albus looked contrite as their neighbour sat down at the table. She was right. This was not the time for arguing.

* * *

Albus pushed the thoughts of that long ago summer, and the other letter that had changed his life, from his mind.

He picked up the letter from the desk and tucked it into his robes. Then he set out for Hogsmeade to visit his brother.

"What'll you have?" Aberforth asked as Albus took a seat at the bar.

"Firewhiskey," replied Albus, placing his money on the wooden bar.

"It's not even noon," Aberforth replied. "You don't think it's a little early to be hitting the hard stuff. If you're like this now, what are you going to be like when the students arrive?"

"It's not the school, or the job," Albus said.

Aberforth looked at him curiously, but Albus didn't elaborate further. Aberforth shrugged and placed the requested drink before his brother.

Albus took a long swallow from the glass and felt the hot liquid burn a path down his throat. Aberforth watched quietly until the glass was empty, then he refilled it immediately and waited again.

"So, what did you want to see me about?" Aberforth asked after Albus had finished his second glass.

"What makes you think I didn't just want to stop by for a drink?" Albus asked ruefully.

"Because you could have got one them from The Three Broomsticks," Aberforth replied. "You're here for another reason. So, are you going to tell me what, or do I have to guess?"

"I received a letter this morning," Albus said.

"Bad news?" Aberforth asked.

"I don't know. I've not read it yet."

"Who's it from?"

"I'm not sure," Albus admitted. "I didn't recognise the handwriting."

"So, why would a letter you've not read, from someone you don't know, bring you down here to me?" Aberforth asked curiously.

Albus reached into his robes and pulled out the envelope. He placed it face down on the bar and watched as Aberforth picked it up to look at it more closely. Albus could tell the moment his brother realised what it was. Aberforth dropped the envelope in much the same manner as he had done when he'd first seen it in the office.

"I see," Aberforth said quietly. "It's about _him_. Do you think he's…"

"Dead?" Albus concluded for him. "I don't know. Somehow I always thought I'd know, instinctively, if he'd died."

"You still care for him." Aberforth commented with a barely concealed sneer.

Albus nodded silently, there was no use denying it. Did he not still care then the letter before him would not have troubled him so.

As his hand reached slowly for the envelope, he wondered if the bright spark of life that had resided in Gellert Grindelwald had finally been extinguished.

* * *

"This is Albus Dumbledore," Bathilda said with a smile at the young man who rose to his feet to greet him. "Albus, this is my great-nephew Gellert Grindelwald. He's staying with me for the summer."

Albus gave a formal bow, straightened and stretched out his hand in greeting. "Welcome to Godric's Hollow," he said with a smile.

Gellert grinned back as he took his hand. "Perhaps you can show me round the village some time?" he asked with just a trace of a foreign accent. "My aunt says there aren't many people our age around here."

"Not wizard folk, no," Albus agreed with a shake of his head. "I could show you round now if you like. We could be back in half an hour. It's a small village, as you've probably seen."

"Good idea," Bathilda said with a smile of approval. "You'll be back just in time for tea. You will stay won't you Albus?"

"I'm sorry," Albus apologised with genuine regret. "I'm needed at home. I'd only really stopped by to return the platter you loaned us for the funeral."

"Perhaps we should put the tour off until tomorrow?" Gellert suggested.

Albus hesitated before nodding in agreement. "Perhaps that would be best. Aberforth will be expecting me back soon."

"Aberforth is Albus's younger brother," Bathilda explained at Gellert's questioning look. Albus wondered if he imagined the fleeting look of relief crossing Gellert's face at his aunt's words. "We'll see you tomorrow then?" she continued.

"I'll be here bright and early," Albus assured them. "Or if something unexpected crops up I'll send an owl over."

Arrangements made, Albus left and walked the short distance home. He took no notice of his surroundings and set about his chores in something of a trance. His mind wasn't on his work or his family. Instead his mind was filled with thoughts of a young man with curly blond hair, eyes sparkling with mischief, and a smile that lit up the room.

* * *

"Good riddance to him if he has finally croaked," Aberforth muttered as he cleaned the surface of the bar with surprising vigour.

Albus shot him a sharp look, but didn't bother to say anything. He knew his brother had never liked Gellert. He'd seen him for what he was far sooner than Albus himself had. Albus didn't need his brother to remind him of that yet again.

In truth they got along fairly well these days, but only so long as they skirted around the one subject they normally avoided by unspoken agreement – the events of the summer that had followed Albus's graduation from Hogwarts.

Now though, the letter with the seal of Nurmengard Prison had opened up the old wounds once more.

"Well, what does it say?" Aberforth asked after Albus had finally opened the letter and read the contents.

"He's not dead." Albus could not stop the sigh of relief at the news. Aberforth grunted in obvious disappointment. "He's wants to see me. He's asked the governor to write and pass on his request."

"Ignore it, burn the letter and forget it ever arrived." Aberforth's response to the letter was entirely what Albus expected it to be.

"I wonder what he wants," he murmured quietly.

"His freedom and to kill you for taking it from him in the first place, I'd imagine," Aberforth suggested with a snort. "Burn it and let him rot."

Albus remained silent and thought back to the last time he'd seen Gellert. He'd seen him only once since their duel. The defeated man had been taken into the prison he'd built for his enemies and locked in the highest tower of the grim structure. Albus had been the one to ensure that he was secure, and the last glimpse he'd seen of Gellert had been of him sitting alone in the tower, working at the impossible task of breaking the spells that helped to hold him there, without the use of a wand.

That had been nearly ten years ago. Albus had moved on with his life, and had tried not to think of the man imprisoned in the cell that could so easily have been his.

Were it not for the man on the other side of the bar, Albus knew his life would have taken a far different turn. He didn't blame Aberforth for opening his eyes to the truth, but nor could he make his brother understand that despite all the things that Gellert had done, and everything he'd destroyed, he still held Albus's heart as securely as he had done during the brief months of their friendship.

* * *

"Is that the cemetery?" asked Gellert, pointing to the gate at the side of the church.

"Yes," Albus replied as they passed by. "You didn't want to take a look in there, did you?"

"Maybe later," Gellert said as he followed Albus down the road. "I'm interested in some of the local legends…but it'd probably bore you."

Albus looked at Gellert and saw the familiar expression of someone who wanted to launch into a subject that was dear to them, but for some reason was hesitant to do so. "I don't know much about the local legends," he offered with a smile. "You'll have to enlighten me."

Gellert smiled back. "Maybe later."

Albus nodded and continued their tour through the village. As Albus had already explained the previous day, the village was very small and there really wasn't that much to see. Even walking at their leisurely pace Albus couldn't stretch the tour into much more than an hour.

By midmorning they had walked through the whole village, to the farm situated on the outskirts on the opposite side to where Bathilda's cottage stood. Albus had combined their tour with his weekly trip to purchase produce at the farm and took the time to introduce Gellert to the muggles who worked there.

"The wizards in the community aren't self sufficient?" Gellert asked after they'd left.

"No," Albus confirmed. "The only village made up entirely of magical folk is Hogsmeade up in Scotland. There are a fair number of wizards and witches here, but like most villages we're outnumbered by the muggles. We need them."

"Do you realise that the eldest muggle girl back there has taken a fancy to you?" asked Gellert casually.

Albus flushed, he'd noticed that the previous summer after his mother had made an equally casual comment about it, just before making the weekly trips to the farm his responsibility for the duration of the holidays. Merlin spare him from the misguided matchmaking attempts of his friends and family.

"Don't you like her?" Gellert asked. "She's quite pretty, for a muggle."

Albus shrugged. "I hadn't really noticed."

"Not your type?" Gellert asked as he hopped up onto a stone wall and grinned down at him. "All that long auburn hair she has. It's almost as long as your own. You prefer brunettes perhaps?"

Albus remained quiet as he climbed up onto the wall too.

"What about blondes?" Gellert asked mischievously.

Albus flushed as he glanced sideways at Gellert, who was idly twirling one of his own blonde curls around his finger. He drew in a sharp breath and felt the blood rush to his face. Gellert smiled knowingly as he continued to play with his hair, and Albus watched hypnotically, wondering if the curls felt as soft as they looked. His hand was halfway to reaching for one before he even realised that he had moved.

He wondered briefly what he was doing, whether Gellert would push him away, whether he'd misread him, whether he was making a mistake.

Then he realised that Gellert was leaning towards him and he felt soft lips brush against his own. In that moment Albus knew his life had changed forever. It was the same feeling he'd had the first time he'd arrived at Hogwarts, only magnified tenfold. In that moment Albus's heart had been lost.

* * *

"You're going to go back there, aren't you?" Aberforth accused with a sigh of frustration.

Albus pulled his thoughts back to the present and nodded mutely.

"You're a fool," Aberforth spat.

"I have to speak with him," Albus said.

"Why?"

"There's a question I want an answer to."

"You didn't perform prior incantato on your wand; what makes you think he checked his after he fled the country?"

Albus looked at his brother in faint surprise. "That isn't the question I want the answer to," he finally said. "It matters not whose wand took her life, the responsibility, and therefore the blame, is still mine."

Aberforth didn't argue with him. Albus didn't expect him to.

"I'll send an owl ahead to notify the prison of my arrival and leave immediately," Albus declared.

Aberforth shrugged, but made no further comment.

* * *

The owl flew from Albus's window, but he didn't go back to bed. He knew that there would be a reply coming soon and he wanted to wait for it.

Sure enough, half an hour later, his owl returned with the reply he'd known would come.

He read the letter and picked up his quill to pen his answer.

His owl looked at him balefully.

"Just one more this night," Albus promised. His pet didn't look as though he believed him. He couldn't say that he blamed the bird either.

Four hours and numerous owls later and the dawn started to creep over the horizon.

Albus could hear the sounds of movements downstairs, but he didn't wish to descend and join his family until his owl had returned once more.

It was the sound of knocking on the front door that eventually brought Albus out of his room.

He hurried down the stairs and was delighted to see that Gellert had come over personally to deliver his final letter of the night.

"Your owl is back at my aunt's," Gellert said. "Seemed to be quite exhausted."

"He'll return when he wants to," Albus muttered. "Have you eaten this morning?"

"Not yet," Gellert replied.

"Then you'll have to stay and join us," Albus offered with a wave towards the kitchen table.

"We've already eaten," Aberforth said. "Ariana and myself."

"I said I'd take care of Ariana's meals from now on," Albus chided.

"Then you should have been down here earlier," Aberforth retorted.

Albus ignored the reprimand; he'd worry about Ariana later.

* * *

Albus looked at the fortress before him, his eyes finding the topmost tower, the one that he knew had been the residence of Gellert Grindelwald for almost ten years.

He stood just beyond the magical boundaries that prevented anyone from apparating into or out of the prison.

He could see one of the guards approaching to escort him to the fortress itself. Unlike Azkaban there was no natural boundary provided by the ocean, and as such, every precaution was taken with regard to the spells that surrounded the facility.

"Albus Dumbledore?" the guard asked as soon as he came into hearing distance.

Albus nodded in confirmation. A few moments later the guard gestured him forward and he stepped into the grounds of Nurmengard. Albus walked on ahead as the guard re-cast the spells that held the boundaries closed.

The governor of the prison greeted him at the entrance to the fortress.

"Thank you for coming," the Governor said as he led the way to his office. "I understand you've been recently appointed as Headmaster to Hogwarts and realise this must be something of an inconvenience at such a time."

"Grindelwald is my responsibility," Albus replied. "I could do no less than answer the summons."

"You will probably not be surprised to know that Grindelwald has become somewhat obsessed with you during his incarceration. He requested, not long after his capture, to be provided with various publications, one of which was The Daily Prophet."

Albus nodded, wondering where this was going.

"We saw no harm in complying with his request. At your own behest we have made a few small allowances for him."

Albus looked at the governor who seemed to be waiting for him to give his approval of the decisions that had been made. "Although he is no longer a part of the world, I see no reason why he shouldn't be permitted to read about what is happening beyond these walls."

The governor breathed a sigh of relief and continued speaking. "Over the years you have made your mark in the world. You have made the headlines on an increasingly frequent basis and Grindelwald has been retaining any story that makes mention of you."

Albus nodded thoughtfully, knowing that before he'd come to fight him, he had likewise scoured the publications for news of Gellert. He'd searched for a reason not to face him, for a spark of compassion, kindness or mercy. There had been none, and eventually he had been forced to admit that his search was futile. Then he'd set out on what he'd believed to be a suicide mission to face the man who he knew now held the unbeatable wand.

* * *

"This wand is frustratingly non-cooperative," Gellert complained.

"Is it one that was passed down to you, or one you purchased yourself?" Albus asked as he successfully cast the charm he was trying to teach Gellert.

"My father's," Gellert replied. "My own was broken."

"Why didn't you purchase another?"

"No one will sell me one," Gellert muttered.

"Why not?"

"I'm on the expelled pupils list at all known wandmakers," Gellert admitted after a few moments.

Albus felt his jaw drop at the unexpected words. "You were expelled from Durmstrang?" he finally asked quietly.

"It was a misunderstanding, and I lost my temper," Gellert explained. "They didn't share my vision, not like you do."

Albus smiled.

"The elder wand will be mine," Gellert said with determination. "It's unbeatable…"

Albus listened as Gellert spoke about the wand he desired. Of the three Hallows it was the one he knew his friend desired the most. He couldn't deny him that, not when his own wand was more than adequate and his friend struggled so much with the second hand one in his possession.

Of the two of them, he knew that Gellert's need for the unbeatable wand was the greater.

* * *

"You may take as much time as you need," the Governor said as another guard came to escort Albus to the tower. Albus jumped slightly at the sound of the door opening and realised that he'd been lost in the past once more and had heard almost nothing of the Governor's speech. "I must ask that you leave your wand here though," he requested with an apologetic shrug. "It is one of our rules and does not allow for exceptions."

"My wand is secured safely outside the prison," Albus explained, having anticipated this request already. Considering the amount of trouble the elder wand had already caused, he'd decided to take no chances by entrusting it to anyone else during his visit. Only he knew where the wand was hidden, and if he were to die before he retrieved it then the secret would die with him.

"Then you may proceed to the tower," the Governor said, waving him towards the door.

Albus followed the guard out of the room to begin his journey to the tower. He was forced to wait periodically as he was passed from the custody of one guard to another, each of the men being in charge of a different set of spells. No one man having complete control of the route meant that the risk of escape due to the betrayal of a guard was minimal.

Eventually they arrived at the tower and the guard left him at the foot of the final staircase. "There are no more spells from this point," he explained. "Save for those on the window of course. He remains in the rooms at the top of these stairs."

"Does he still try to escape?" Albus asked curiously.

"Not since I've been here," the guard confirmed. "And I've been working here for nigh on seven years now."

Albus nodded and made his way up the stairs.

He knocked on the door and waited barely a moment before the still familiar voice called out for him to enter.

Gellert Grindelwald had changed somewhat during the last decade. His face was paler and far more gaunt than he remembered, and the clothes that had once fit him so well were beginning to hang off of the far thinner man.

"I didn't think you'd come," Gellert said as he rose to his feet.

Albus stood in the doorway, unsure of what to say now that he was here.

"How's Fawkes?" Gellert asked, surprising Albus with the question.

Some of Albus's astonishment must have shown on his face and Gellert pointed to the paper that was lying on the crude wooden table that served as a desk. Albus approached and saw a week old edition of the Daily Prophet lying there. On the cover was the article covering his promotion to the position of Headmaster. He was pictured sitting at his desk with a stillness that might have given the impression to a casual observer that the photograph was of muggle origin. The only movement in the picture was made by Fawkes. The phoenix sat on his perch, preening for the camera and the sight of it brought a smile to Albus's face.

"He is well," Albus replied. "As you have obviously seen for yourself."

"I wish I had his company again," Gellert said.

"I do not keep him from you," Albus said. "He stays with me of his own free will. Had you earned his loyalty whilst you kept him, nothing could keep him from your side."

"His tears were too valuable a commodity to waste," Gellert said.

"Using them to heal those who had suffered at your hand, so that you could hurt them again. You used Fawkes just as you used so many others. I earned his loyalty when I freed him." Albus shook his head sadly. "But I don't imagine you summoned me here to ask about Fawkes..."

"No," Gellert replied although he didn't elaborate further.

"I don't know what to say," Albus admitted with a sigh.

"Nor I," answered Gellert. He looked around the room as though searching for answers amidst the sparse furnishings. "A game of chess, perhaps?"

Albus followed Gellert's movements as he walked across the room and retrieved an old and battered chess set from the wooden trunk in the corner of the room.

Gellert set up the board on the table and offered Albus the choice of being seated on the solitary chair or the bed.

"Pawn to –" Albus began before Gellert let out a bark of laughter. "What?" he asked.

"I am allowed nothing of wizard origin if there is a muggle alternative," Gellert explained. "We'll have to move the pieces manually."

Albus shrugged and moved his pawn to begin the game. "Who do you usually play?" he asked curiously.

"Myself," Gellert answered abruptly. "The Governor used to give me a game when making his monthly check on me, but no one else is allowed up here."

"Why did he stop?" Albus asked as Gellert made his move.

"I asked him to stop playing," Gellert replied. "He has no head for strategy and was a poor opponent. He was thankful not to have to stay up here any longer than necessary."

"You've had no other visitors?" Albus asked.

"My comrades were killed or fled after you defeated me," Gellert explained. "I would not wish to see those who still live, even if my request were to be granted."

"Your request to see me was permitted," Albus pointed out.

"Eventually. I made the initial request nearly a year ago. I think they finally reached the conclusion that since you were the one to see me put in here, you would be able to handle yourself if I tried to escape." Gellert grinned across the chessboard and for an instant Albus saw a glimmer of the youth who'd captured his heart so many years ago.

* * *

"Queen to C5," Albus said, shooting a grin at his friend. He tried to ignore the way Gellert's fingers were entwined with his own, but it was highly distracting and Albus realised too late that his move had put his king in peril from Gellert's bishop. He charted his friend's next moves in his mind and realised that Gellert was just three moves away from checkmate.

"King's knight to G4," Gellert said. Albus drew in his breath as he realised that by moving his knight instead of the bishop Gellert had offered him a reprieve.

Albus pressed his advantage and turned the game around, checkmating Gellert's king within half an hour.

"You're the first person to beat me since my father taught me how to play," Gellert said as he conceded the game.

"You let me win," Albus accused.

"I did not!" Gellert sounded affronted at the very idea.

"Your bishop was in position to check my king half an hour ago," Albus pointed out.

Gellert looked at the board and Albus could see that he was running through the game again in his mind.

"I should be heading back to my aunt's," he finally said. "She'll be wondering where I am."

"She'll know exactly where you are," Aberforth muttered.

"Just ignore him," Albus said as he shot a glare at his brother. "I'll see you home."

"It's just down the road," Aberforth pointed out. "He found his way there from the continent; I think he can manage it from here without an escort."

Albus rolled his eyes and walked with Gellert towards the door. He left Aberforth muttering complaints, hooked his arm through Gellert's and strolled down the moonlit lane beside him.

"You let me win," he repeated as they arrived at Bathilda's door.

"We'll have a rematch tomorrow," Gellert offered. "In the meantime, how about you collect your prize."

"Your aunt is waiting for you," Albus whispered even as Gellert's arms wound around his waist.

"She's probably already in bed," Gellert whispered back, stepping closer.

"What if she isn't? What if she sees us?"

"What if she does?" Gellert asked. "She adores you almost as much as I do. She introduced us because she hoped you'd be a good influence on me."

"And am I?" Albus asked mischievously.

"Undoubtedly," Gellert replied. "We'll do great things together, you and I…great things."

* * *

Albus rested his chin on one hand as the other moved his knight. "Check."

Gellert looked at the board in astonishment. "You always were the only one who could give me a decent game."

"I haven't won yet," Albus pointed out.

"Besides my father, you're the only one who's ever beaten me," Gellert said.

"It was once, and you let me win," Albus muttered as Gellert continued to contemplate his next move.

"You still believe that?" Gellert asked with a shake of his head.

"You didn't let me win?"

"Not at chess, no." Gellert looked up. "I remember everything about that summer as if it were yesterday. That night you beat me we'd started playing mid-afternoon. We didn't even leave the board to light the lamps when it grew darker. The only light in the room was from the fire. Your hair was long and auburn, and each time you moved it seemed to ripple. The firelight made it look as if it had a life of its own."

"You're saying you were distracted?" Albus asked with surprise. "That I beat you fair and square?"

Gellert snorted and shrugged. "Depends on your definition of fair and square," he joked.

"And the other?" Albus asked. "Were you distracted then too?"

"Why did you agree to come here?" Gellert asked in a whisper.

"Why did you ask me to come?" Albus countered.

"I wanted to ask you something," Gellert whispered. "Now I'm not so sure I want to know the answer."

Albus waited without prompting the other man to speak. Eventually Gellert looked him in the eye and spoke.

"I've followed your work over the years," he said. "Even before you ended my reign of terror, as the Daily Prophet called it. Did you ever wonder why I never made a move towards Britain?"

"I wondered," Albus confirmed.

"I didn't want to face you," Gellert admitted.

"You had the elder wand," Albus stated with surprise. "It's unbeatable. You had little to fear from me."

"And yet you beat me," Gellert pointed out with a smile.

"You let me win," Albus replied. "We both know it, so there's no use you denying the fact. I was on the ground after the tornado you sent at me. I was winded and fumbled with my wand. You had a clean shot and could have defeated me in that moment. But you didn't. You let me win."

"And when the tables turned, you didn't finish me either," Gellert pointed out.

"You were defeated, there was no need for anyone else to die."

"You delayed facing me for five years because you didn't want to kill me. I delayed invading your country because I didn't want to kill you. And when we duelled, face to face, you couldn't kill me for the same reason I couldn't kill you."

Albus didn't know what to say, or even if he was expected to say anything. In his heart he knew that Gellert was right.

The other man didn't seem to want a reply and spoke again before Albus had completely gathered his thoughts. "If I hadn't fled that day, would you have stood by me like we'd planned?"

Albus considered the question carefully. In truth he wasn't sure what he'd have done. With Gellert gone he'd always told himself that his eyes had been opened and he was relieved that he'd not got any more involved with Gellert's plans for world domination than he had. But a small part of him knew that the plans had been as much his own as Gellert's, and he sometimes wondered whether he'd have been tempted back into those schemes by the winning smile of the man he loved.

"I don't know," Albus admitted quietly. "I honestly don't know."

"I'm sorry for Ariana," said Gellert, equally quietly. "No matter what other crimes I've committed over the years, her death is not something I'm proud of. It's something I'd change if I could."

"I was responsible for her," Albus stated firmly. "The blame is mine."

"Did you ever check your wand?" Gellert asked curiously.

"No, did you?"

Gellert shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," Albus said. "Her blood is on my hands."

"You cannot take all the blame," Gellert offered. "I was equally responsible that day."

"What of all the others?" Albus asked. "Do you take responsibility for them?"

"It was for the greater good," Gellert replied immediately.

Albus shook his head sadly. Ten years imprisoned and he still hadn't learned the most important lesson of all. He wondered if he ever would.

"I should leave," Albus said as he rose to his feet.

Gellert didn't try to stop him as he walked towards the door. "No one could have stopped us if we'd stood together."

Albus knew he was right. "Thinking of it now, that very fact is terrifying," he said as he turned to face the man that was the living embodiment of everything he could so easily have become.

"Will you visit again?" Gellert asked, and Albus could hear the loneliness in his voice.

"I don't think so," Albus replied quietly. "I'm a busy man, and I've learned not to neglect my responsibilities."

"Then this is goodbye," Gellert said as he joined Albus in the doorway.

Albus didn't move towards the stairs. He felt Gellert's hand on his arm. He drew in a sharp breath and took the cold hand in his own one last time.

"Don't forget me," Gellert asked jokingly.

"The day I let myself forget you, will be the day I become you," Albus replied.

"I'd always let you share my cell here," Gellert offered in another forced attempt to lighten the mood. "I was prepared to share my life with you, just as I shared my dreams."

"I know," Albus whispered as he released Gellert's hand and reached up to caress the gaunt face. The face was different from the man he remembered, but the eyes were the same. He looked into them as he brushed his lips across the other man's. His heart began to race and the kiss became more passionate. He felt Gellert's arms pulling him closer and responded in kind.

"Thank you for visiting," Gellert said after they'd broken away from each other.

"Did you get the answer to your question?" Albus asked.

"I think I already knew it," Gellert replied. "Ah, Albus, we could have done great things together."

"Terrible things," Albus corrected. "We'd have done terrible things together."

"But still great," Gellert replied.

He left Gellert at the top of the stairs and didn't look back.

He was not sorry that he'd known and loved Gellert Grindelwald. Were it not for that he could so easily have become the one imprisoned in a tower or dead in a duel.

He was grateful that he'd been saved from that path before it had been too late to turn back. He was grateful to have known Gellert Grindelwald.

It was meant to be.


End file.
